Chapter Twenty-five
Serafina
Two days after my confrontation with Eagle, the big biker standing guard outside of my apartment finally knocks on the door in the late afternoon. I’ve been wondering if the guy ever needs to take a piss or eat. I open the door.
“There’s a car waiting for you.”
“Excuse me?” I didn’t ask for a ride anywhere. In fact, I don’t know anything about anyone, I’ve been locked up for two days.
“Pack an overnight bag and let’s go.”
I look him up and down. He’s twice the size of Eagle and a bit older. Scary. Like some kind of barbarian in a movie. I retreat a step, refusing to cower or get pushed around. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Yes you are.” He steps inside uninvited. “We can do this the hard way or you can come peacefully.”
“Where’s Eagle?”
He doesn’t answer.
“How can you expect me to cooperate if you won’t tell me anything? For all I know, you’re going to slit my throat and feed me to the gators.”
My concerns elicit a laugh. “If Eagle wanted you dead, you’d be gone already.”
True. “Where are we going? Can I get your name at least?”
“Cannon.”
I roll my eyes. Of course it is. “How original.”
“About as original as Angel Orani,” he shoots back.
Then I know. Eagle told his brothers what happened. I’m wanted for questioning and my future hangs in the balance. “I need to go to my bedroom.”
“Hurry up.”
Five minutes later, I’m escorted to a black van with tinted windows waiting in the parking lot. The side door opens and another guy I don’t recognize, wearing Iron Norsemen patches, greets me. “Climb up, Angel. My name is Garrett.”
I pause. Cannon tosses my bag inside and glares at me. “Need me to carry you?”
“No.” I step up and my hands are immediately tied behind my back and then I’m pushed down in a nearby captain’s chair and seat-belted in. “Are the restraints necessary?”
“Just a precaution,” Garrett says as he slides the door shut and taps on the ceiling. The driver starts the engine and the van drives away from my building. “Eagle wouldn’t like it if our precious cargo got away.”
“Eagle doesn’t like anything about me,” I complain. “If I get lost on the way, you’d be doing him a favor.”
Six hours later, we arrive in Holly Beach. I’m not thrilled at the idea of being back here, not under these circumstances. If ever. The ride here was uneventful. We stopped once for burgers and a second time so I could go to the bathroom in the woods. Fortunately, Garrett took pity on my sore wrists and retied my hands in the front. So when he helps me down from the van, which is parked next to the Iron Norsemen’s clubhouse, I’m able to walk with some dignity.
I’m rushed inside. There’s no one there. I’m surprised when Garrett ushers me to the one place I know women aren’t welcome. He knocks on the door to the meeting room and I hear Eagle say, “Come in.”
My heart instantly starts to flutter. Garrett places me at the opposite end of the long table from where Eagle is seated. The overhead lights are off, but there’s two torch lamps on. If Eagle is trying for ambiance to set the tone of what’s about to take place, the only thing he’s accomplished is making me wish we were in his bedroom together. Not here.
I sink into a high-backed leather chair while Garrett walks across the room to where Eagle is waiting. They exchange words and then Garrett leaves us alone.
I gaze around the spacious room. The side wall is a monument to the fallen members of the MC—their patches and photographs perfectly displayed. The Iron Norsemen patch is painted on the other main wall, their motto scrolled across the top—FEAR NONE, RESPECT FEW.The conference table can accommodate dozens of men; I count thirty-eight chairs.
“What do you want me to call you—Serafina or Angel?”
“Which do you prefer?”
